


Stagnant

by NeoVenus22



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-26
Updated: 2010-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-09 17:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Bobby spends a large chunk of his time staring at Rogue.  He wonders if his neck is permanently twisted slightly to the left, the way his eyes always seem to find her.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Stagnant

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Takes place somewhere between _X2_ and _X3_.   
> Disclaimer: No one mentioned belongs to me.

Rogue stares at nothing sometimes. Bobby only knows this because he spends a large chunk of his time staring at Rogue. Sometimes it's intentional. She's a gorgeous girl. She's his _girlfriend_. So looking is not only encouraged, it's practically a requirement.

But sometimes, most of the time, it's habit. He wonders if his neck is permanently twisted slightly to the left, the way his eyes always seem to find her. He watches the back of her head sometimes and wonders what she's thinking. Wonders how much she knows.

Bobby blurts out his concerns at lunch one afternoon, the words popping out of his mouth as the top on his soda can pops. "When you absorb someone, what do you get out of it?"

He knows the fundamentals of her powers: she gets the powers of whomever she's absorbing, if they have powers, and she can take their thoughts, even traces of their personality, depending on how long she touches them. What he doesn't know is how long it lasts.

Rogue stares him down, a trace of despondency in her eyes. "I get a hell of a lot of trouble, is what. Is there a point to this?"

"I'm just curious." His voice and his entire body bristle and stiffen in defense. "Aren't I allowed to be curious about the things that happen to my girlfriend's body?" He tries to smirk as punctuation, tries to make it sound like this is just harmless flirting.

Rogue seems to buy this, or else she's a better liar than he is. She leans forward slightly, bracing her elbows on the table and he's gifted with a brief glimpse down into the valley of cleavage he's never allowed to touch. "I dunno. I get... their voice, if that makes any sense. They become a part of me for a little bit."

The rational part of his brain, no matter how small that seems to be in comparison to the damaged and masochistic parts, pipes up in the half-second before he speaks. This is a bad idea and he should drop it now.

He doesn't. "Just a little bit?"

Rogue's eyes rest on him for a long time, longer than he's actually able to meet her gaze. Still he feels her eyeballing him. "I'm not a telepath, Bobby. I can't hear your thoughts, if you're so concerned."

"I..." he starts up in pitiful protest.

"I don't control what I get. It's just... ideas. Images from the minds of everyone I've ever touched, so it's not like I could even sort through them if I wanted to. So if there's something you really want to ask..." Her expression is full of meaning, and he cowers on the inside.

"Just curious, that's all," he lies. He keeps his face still, for so long that she seems to believe it. He almost does, himself.

Alone in his room that night, he looks over at the cool and dust-sprinkled bedspread that used to once be warm and clean as it was pulled taut over John's sleeping form. John is someone else Bobby watches. Has watched, since John isn't here anymore, and Bobby wonders if that's why he's always watching Rogue.

Of course, if he's looking at her, it's easier to think of her, and not have his thoughts wander, as they so often do, to John. Of course, sometimes he looks at Rogue and gets flooded with jealousy. She still carries a piece of John. Maybe she always will. Of course, it's not a piece that he gave willingly (she took it by force, and might not even have done so were it not completely necessary at the time), but when did John ever give any part of himself willingly? He was fire, after all, he was hot and untouchable and he raged out of control. Rogue physically couldn't be touched. John emotionally couldn't be touched. Yet that was what Rogue had, and Bobby never would.

The door to the bedroom creaks open and closed, so softly he probably wouldn't notice if not for the fact he couldn't sleep. He sees the shadow of his visitor and makes out Rogue's shape. "Hi."

"Hi." The foot of his bed sinks as she sits. She doesn't touch John's side of the room. Does anyone, anymore? "I couldn't sleep."

"Me neither." It's a twin bed, of course, but Bobby shifts over to the side. After an incredibly long moment, she curls into the empty space next to him. He starts to slide his arm around her shoulders, but she flinches and pulls back. He's been sitting here long enough that his eyes have adjusted to the dark, and he sees the shape of her neck, bare, as bare as his arms. Of course. Bobby folds his arms across his chest, feeling mummified.

"It's not just for a little bit," she says. "It's forever. I can hear everyone I've ever touched. Logan. John. Magneto." There is the tiniest of pauses. "You."

He stays perfectly still.

"I can't hear thoughts. It's not like that. I just hear... what they _might_ say. Like I'm being coached or something. And I get memories sometimes."

Bobby doesn't know why she's finally deciding to tell him this. He thinks he has an idea.

"He's not coming back," she says.

"You don't know that for sure."

"I think I do. I know what he thinks about this place, how much he hates it here. The only thing he liked was you. But Bobby..." Rogue sits up, and does so in such a way that a shaft of moonlight from the window hits her, illuminating her eyes. Her gaze pins him to the bed, then her words. "He won't come back for you."

So she does know. Once upon a time, Bobby thought being in a relationship meant knowing everything about a person. He struggled once or twice through failed high school romances, back when he was just a scared kid trying to hide this ability that he didn't understand. He wanted to be with someone without having to have secrets. He wanted to be with someone who understood.

But he gets it now. There are some secrets that never need knowing. There are some things that it's best if you just keep them to yourself.

"I guess neither of us can ever really be in this relationship," she murmurs. "We're just the best we can get."

"I love you," Bobby says, because it's true. It's complicated (the part of him that loves the part of John in her that he never sees; the part of him that loves her because he knows that for a long while, this really _is_ the best relationship either of them will have, and that she'll stay because of it; the part of him that genuinely loves her smile and her laugh and her attitude), but it's true. He doesn't know how much of the sincerity actually translates in his voice, because it's a long time before she answers. Or maybe it just feels that way.

"I love you, too, Bobby." But she swings her legs over the side of the bed, her back to him.

"Rogue." He puts his hand on her back, between the shoulder blades. She's warm through her t-shirt.

"I should go back to my room," she says. "You know the rules."

The rules are usually pretty lax for the two of them, given Bobby's spotless reputation and Rogue's power. "Nothing's changed," he swears. All that's different is that she knows, and he knows she knows.

"Nothing ever will," Rogue says. She stands and Bobby's hand drops swiftly to the mattress with a soft thump that seems to echo in the sudden impenetrable stillness of the room. He struggles to sit up, but by the time he gets his sluggish body to cooperate under the sheets, she's already out the door.

Bobby closes his eyes. It doesn't matter how many nights he sleeps in this bed, from now until forever. It's an empty room.


End file.
